


Noose

by tamedtyrant



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:56:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28890984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamedtyrant/pseuds/tamedtyrant
Summary: Some small snippets of my Detective and her life as a member of Bravo team and a human liaison of Wayhaven.
Relationships: Female Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles)
Kudos: 14





	1. Noose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a little something I wanted to bring to life since the last TWC Book 3 demo. Yes, that bakery scene packed a wallop for all of us. For me, though, it was lacking options to be openly perplexed and surprized by this perplexion, as Mason was. I believe, all options there implied that the Detective was deeply hurt by Mason’s words, even if they did not clearly understood why it hurted so much. I wanted in this fanfic to show the Detective who is just as insecure and unaware of her feelings as Mason. So, basically, two dorks, telling themselves they are absolutely content with the way things are and ‘there’s nothing more going on’.
> 
> Mason’s POV, though.
> 
> Warnings: mild language and suggestive jokes (that’s agent Mason for you)

It’s been two weeks since that damned incident at the bakery. Two weeks of Lauren’s awkward avoidance of the Warehouse and Unit Bravo. Two weeks and a half. Like in four days. Who counts, though? Definitely not Mason.

Well, she wasn’t really avoiding them. He still saw her – at the station and on patrols, at some completely unavoidable work related meetings and briefings with agent Kingston – but it’s always rushed.

“Sorry, guys – awful lot of work, no time to chat!” Waving in the air with some papers, shrugging her shoulders as if saying, ‘you know how it is’ and running off without as much as a glance in his direction.

She talks with Nate, though. Couple of times he saw them in the library, slouching over some old looking manuscripts. Birds of a feather, those two. Sometimes it really nags on him how much alike they are in some aspects. Other times he finds it almost… Endearing?

She didn’t tell them about what happened at the bakery. Not Nate, nor Felix, who bombards her (and the whole unit, really) with messages with new found memes and pictures of funny cats. Until recently Felix pestered them so much, that Adam threatened to block him out of group chat. Now he has an absolute limit of twenty messages per day. Which is way too generous in Mason’s opinion.

The other day Mason thought about talking to them himself. But realized there’s no need to, really. He knows well enough everything they would say if he declares he fucked up.

Adam would definitely implicate something like ‘I told you so’ along the lines of his notation of how nothing good comes out of mixing business with pleasure. Felix would bitterly laugh and say, “So, nothing new then?”

And Nate… Nate would look at him all sad and disappointed – gods, that look is nearly the only thing that can make Mason feel ashamed – and, of course, would say something endearingly naïve. For example, ‘talk to her’.

As if it is so simple. Simple his ass. Not only Lauren uses any excuse to escape as soon as she sees him, but even if she wouldn’t (and maybe he should be grateful she does) – what on earth should he say? Apologize for being a crude ass he is?

And what did she say then, after his brash remark? She kind of laughed it off, said something on how he makes baker girl uncomfortable. Did he, really? Or was she talking about herself? And if so, what did she mean? Was she only frustrated by his inappropriate comment, or did it bug her as much as it bugged him immediately afterwards? And why, for the fuck’s sake, did it bug him so much?!

With all that self-analyzing Mason didn’t realize where he was going, and he found himself standing outside of Lauren’s building. He looked up and found her windows. Bedroom’s one was dimly lit. Not sleeping, then. Reading, he could bet. Some book she borrowed from Nate, no doubt. In a foreseeable future, then, Unit Bravo will have a pleasure of watching these two nerds heatedly debating over some written bullshit with sparkling eyes.

Mason chuckled, shaking his head. He never could understand Nate’s – and now Lauren’s, too – love for a theoretical knowledge. In his opinion, the only experience worthy is that one which comes from practice. Life itself is the best teacher. Even Adam, though, sometimes joined them in their researches.

Why did he come here? Stupid body memory. He was thinking about Lauren, and… Mason growled. One last cigarette, and off he goes.

It’s not that he misses her apartment, though, is it? Dark burgundy and charcoal colors, dark wooden panels and furniture, few decorations and lamps from dark, aged fake silver. A sight for the sore eyes, indeed. And the slightest fresh and bitter aroma of black coffee from her small scarcely using kitchen. Unexpectedly pleasant. Imperceptibly _her_. Along with the clogging musk of her goddamned perfume. Though she started using it less and less as for lately, her clothes still reeks with it. Or is it just her?

Last unlit cigarette goes in a litter bin, and Mason goes inside, as quick as possible, not giving himself any time to process and change his mind. He practically flew over the stairs to the sacred door and knocked. And almost immediately regretted. The fuck he will say? That he was walking by and decided to say hi?

He almost chickened out, but then he heard her soft, deliberate steps to the door. She pressed close to look through the peephole, and held her breath. Pause was stretching, and he sneered.

“You do realize I can hear you heartbeat, sweetheart?”

She gasped, and after a second dubiously drawled:

“Detective Kingston is… out?”

“Yeah, right. Well, could you kindly pass the message, then?” he snorted, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Tell her I would very much like to have the grand privilege of seeing her once in a while again. And that she acts stupid,” he added after an awkward pause.

“Makes two of us,” Lauren mumbled, sighing and turning the door latch.

Finally, the door was opened, and he could see her. And finally – finally! – she looked at him, too. Not a quick passing glance to not awoke any suspicions (was it even worth the act?) in the rest of the unit, but a real, full-blood, if slightly annoyed, look. And Mason in return took his time to take her frame in.

Bare-footed, in a grey silk night suit, long dark hair, usually scraped up in a messy bun or a low ponytail, let down for the night. With no glasses which made her look all haughty and much older than she really is. Inexplicably transforming her into Rebecca, he just realized. Which is strange, considering that agent Kingston has eagle eyes. In every sense.

All in all she looked as usual, if not a little tired, he contentedly enclosed. The verdict she only confirmed by crossing her arms and defiantly raising her brow.

“Well? Are you coming, or what?”

“Not yet, but the night is still young,” he retorted without skipping a bit.

Lauren predictably rolled her eyes, though Mason didn’t miss the way the corner of her mouth twitched when she moved aside to let him in.

Everything is as usual, he tells himself, kicking off his boots. And all is good. And he is not lying to himself if he thinks it is safer to not notice a huge question mark, hanging between them like a noose.

Makes two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upd.: I planned this to be a standalone fanfic, but I already have an idea for the next one. So, as I don't see it being much longer than this one, and starring same Detective, I think I'll just make it a next chapter when it comes.


	2. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts, feelings, emotional struggles (you could already guess that I am a big fan of inner monologues and self-analyzing).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sigh* Ok, I'm sick and tired of editing and proof reading of this one, I guess I should accept that it's not gonna become any better. I'm not sure that I am completly satisfied with how this chapter turned out to be, but I feel that it is essential for a better understanding of Lauren, her views and motivations. At least, it helped me to know and understand her a little bit better.
> 
> Warnings: minor swearing, dicsussion of trust issues (may be troublesome for someone).

Lauren was tiredly watching at Rebecca and Adam, who were quietly speaking in the farther corner of the room. The subject of their conversation was not a secret, though. They were talking about her, Lauren, and her outright refusal to cooperate with the Agency.

For the last two hours (last few weeks, really) Rebecca again and again raised the subject of her blood to be properly tested. Lauren already told them she didn’t want to risk it, when she was for the first time brought to the Facility, and back then Rebecca, if reluctantly, let it be her way. But in the new light of Trappers’ activity and one ass huge bounty on Lauren’s head she once again (and again, and again) tried to persuade her.

Lauren closed her eyes. She was almost ready to capitulate on the matter if it meant she could go to bed. There was too much on her plate lately, even if she would never admit it aloud. Trying to find a delicate balance between the police station, researches with Nate and her own inquiries in attempt to know more about the world of supernaturals, her liaising with the said supernaturals, figuring out her relationships with Rebecca, who suddenly decided to play house with her adult daughter; and also trying not to lose some old relationships – Tina and Verda – in all this mess…

At the thought of Verda Lauren felt a sharp pang of guilt. She didn’t want him to be so broken and lost. She just wanted to have a friend near in this rapidly changing world. She was floating, going down right through the rabbit hole, and she needed someone to anchor to, someone she can trust. And Verda was definitely the only person she could delegate her responsibilities at the station, if need be. The only person she let herself be relatively close with for the last few years.

Selfish. She was selfish to put him under the fire out of fear of losing him, and now he was broken and lost, and didn’t even want to talk to her, to let her apologize, explain…

“Lauren?”

Soft hand touched her forearm. Lauren startled and opened her eyes.

Rebecca momentarily straightened up. She knew well enough Lauren didn’t like to be touched, and it had nothing to do with Rebecca personally. Well, mostly.

“Sorry, dear, you were drowsing,” she apologetically smiled. “Probably, we should call it a day. I think you should stay here, at the Warehouse, for the night. Or I could give you a ride if you…”

“I’ll think about what you said,” Lauren immediately interrupted, averting her eyes. Not swiftly enough to amiss how Rebecca’s smile withered. She, however, collected herself quickly enough.

“Well, then,” Rebecca nodded, sounding all composed and professional. “I’ll call you tomorrow, maybe you would have the answer then.”

“Sure,” Lauren agreed, perfectly knowing what that answer would be. Same as usual. Always the same. As it was these few weeks. As it was all these years, really.

Rebecca clicked in her heels to the door, but dwelled again.

“Lauren…”

 _Gods, just leave already,_ she thought. _Don’t you see I don’t want you here? Don’t you feel how odd this is?_

“…please, be careful.”

Finally, she heard Nate’s soft goodbye, and the door closed. Through the closed eyelids Lauren could feel four pairs of attentive eyes. Assessing her, examining, taking into account slightest changes in her breath and heartbeat.

“I hate this,” Lauren sighed and rubbed her eyes under glasses. “I hate this. _I hate this_.”

“Show ‘em, Detective! Let it all out of your system.”

“Felix, really…” Nate pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What? Lauren is upset. I say, let her blow it down than she would store inside all those negativity. Bottled up emotions never helped anyone. Once they reach critical level they explode, and…”

“Felix. Enough.” Adam’s voice, categorical and final, cut through. Bravo’s leader was standing near the door with crossed arms. “Agent Kingston is right, Detective. Those blood tests could reveal something important. Something mandatory for us to keep you safe. Maybe, it even could help us to throw Trappers off your trail.“

“Adam, you really think you can say something I haven’t heard before tons of times?” Lauren snapped. “Something that will magically twist my way of thinking by 180 degrees? Well, if you do –“

“I think, _Detective_ ,” Adam sneered her rank as a swear, “that you are being difficult. Your foolish stubbornness may cost you – may cost all of us – life.”

“Thus far her stubbornness was the main driving force keeping her alive.” Mason suddenly noted from his corner.

“Guys, please,” Nate raised his palms up. “It’s been a long day, we’re all tired, let us not say something we regret, comes the morning.”

Adam frowned, but nodded, clearly not satisfied.

“You should rest, Detective,” he curtly said before leaving the sitting room.

“You should really stay the night,” Nate suggested. “Your room is always at your disposal.”

“I think I will, thank you.” Lauren smiled tiredly but genuinely.

Nate reached and squeezed her shoulder in a fleeting friendly gesture, passing by to the door.

“Good night, Lauren. Sleep well. Felix?”

Youngest vampire hopped off the couch he was sprawled on.

“Night, Lauren. Night, Mason,” he meaningfully purred from the door. “Love you!”

“We love you, too!” Lauren singsonged rolling her eyes good-naturedly, and Mason only growled.

Finally, the room was quiet. Lauren sighed and tipped back in the armchair.

It was her favorite armchair. _Her_ armchair. Very Victorian-looking, velvet, dark green, deep and soft, with a remarkably high back. And very broad armrests, as she found out recently, when Mason started to perch on them to stay close. As he did now.

Lauren almost unconsciously leaned into his side, feeling a blissful calmness enveloping her. Mason’s hand moved as unconsciously to her head.

“I don’t trust them,” Lauren mumbled, meaning the Agency. “I don’t… I don’t trust _her_ … Mason, what should I do?”

“No way,” he snorted. “I am not going to make that decision for you.”

“I’m not asking you to, I want to hear your opinion.” She sat straighter to have a look at him.

“And why is it if not to shift the responsibility on me?”

“To have an alternative point of view,” Lauren reasonably inferred. “An opportunity to look at the situation from different angles.”

“Sweetheart,” Mason interrupted her. “Let’s be honest. You don’t need my opinion. You need me to support you and say how they all are wrong, and you are the only one on the right side and the queen of everything.”

“Would you? Pretty please?”

Mason chuckled.

“Yeah, right.”

For some time the room grew quiet again. Lauren snuggled into Mason’s side and started to fall asleep for real, when he spoke again.

“I’m not a huge fan of the Agency myself.”

“What?”

“Big shocker, I know. What I am trying to say is that I trust _them_ ,” Mason jerked his chin. “Nate, Adam, Felix – they are people I would kill and die for without hesitation. They are my family. So what if Adam answers to agent Kingston who answers to the Agency? I’m following Adam, not them.”

“So,” Lauren drawled, “you are implying you voluntarily choose to not see the whole picture? To know what you need to know and no more?”

“Voluntarily?” Mason rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “I mean, I filter what information I need to do what I have to do. A complaint service dog I am.”

Lauren raised her head and seriously looked at him.

“I don’t believe that is all there is in you.”

“Well, I am also strikingly good looking.”

She snorted.

“Seriously, though, who else can you trust if not your family?”

“So I should try and find a way to rely on Rebecca again?” Uncertainly questioned Lauren, chewing on her lower lip.

“You could try, but that’s… not the only family you got, Lauren.”

Surprised, she gazed at him and couldn’t look away. Mason’s grey eyes were full of fondness and true warmth. A rare sight, but the one she was becoming more acquainted with as of lately.

They simultaneously reached for each other to meet halfway. The kiss was also something not quite familiar yet, but one of Lauren’s favorite so far. Slow and passionate, heated but gentle. The one kiss that made her feel herself the most precious and desirable thing in the world. Made her feel loved and protected. The kiss that gave her strength and let her know that whatever she decides she won’t be alone. Never again.

The kiss ended abruptly and way too soon for Lauren’s liking. Mason gently stroked her cheek, rising up from the armrest.

“Let’s put you in bed before you pass out.”

Lauren blinked, confused.

“Wait – that’s it? No further suggestions? Not even ‘though I know a couple of good positions, if you’re still in need of blowing down some steam’? Nothing at all?

Mason just shrugged.

“Wow, I do look _that_ bad, huh?” Lauren incredulously muttered.

He looked at her over his shoulder and smirked.

“You are the queen of everything, sweetheart.”

“Asshole!” Lauren laughed.

Leading her through the corridors of the Warehouse, Mason was holding her hand. Only because otherwise she would meet half of the walls face first, being half asleep, he explained. Of course, she agreed. Very reasonable. 

Later, lying in her bed, Lauren was thinking about the matters of trust. In some wicked way she understood her mother’s motivations too well. Respected her, even. They were alike. Lauren realized it after her first meeting with the Trappers, when she without a second thought rushed for Sanja. She was on a duty. She had a job to fulfill. Not out of loyalty to the Agency. Because it was the right thing to do. Because it had to be done. Because it was her duty. Just – because. Plain and simple.

But could she trust that woman? The one that gave up her child for her career? Or the one that turned her back on her teammate – worse still, on Mason! – to fulfill her duty? The one she saw every morning in the mirror?

 _He_ trusted her, though. And Nate, and Adam, and Felix. And Lauren could trust in them. She has a family. Maybe, for the first time in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I've already got the idea of what 3 and 4 chapters should be about, but I am afraid these will not come soon (if will at all). Basically just a reminder for myself: do not give up. Even if you don't like each and every result of your working.
> 
> "You are not a writer if you do not write." (c) - don't remember, who...


	3. Night Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little snippet of a rare 'out' quality time of Lauren an Tina. Girls' talks, Bobby being a dick - the usual.
> 
> Warnings: minor swearing (yeah, this warning will be a part of every chapter; I guess, Mason is not the only one with a foul mouth in this pairing)

It all started from Tina. Because _of course it did_. Before Unit Bravo literally everything in Lauren’s life started from a local disaster in a form of the woman known as Tina Poname.

It was a regular evening at the station, where Lauren tried to systematize all the information known about another missing person. The number of disappearances was increasing lately. And – as if this sole fact wasn’t enough – the Agency suspected that only part of them was on Trappers. So, there was some other force – human or supernatural – responsible for disappearance of people in once slumberous Wayhaven.

Last few hours Lauren spent trying to find some logic, some pattern, which’d let her to divide the kidnapped onto two groups. She obstinately refused to admit a simple fact – there was none. Not a single clue. It was a dead end even more hopeless than Murphy was.

Someone’s nails thrummed on plexiglass wall of her office.

“Hey, Lauren,” Tina smiled, peeping into. “Soo… Do you know what time is it?”

“Yes, sure, it’s –“ Lauren looked at her computer’s clock, and her eyes widened. “… Oh.”

“Yes, hon, exactly. But this is your lucky day, as I am here to kidnap you from this vale of papers, bad coffee and, well, Douglas, and show you a whole new world of gambling, alcohol and debauchery. Rejoice.”

“Thank you for the offer, I am so tempted – you know me well and can imagine how much,“ Lauren chuckled, “but I really don’t think –“

“Oh, Lauren, come on!” Tina whined. “It’s Friday night, and you are sitting here like… like…”

“Responsible adult?” Lauren prompted.

“Yes. I mean, no!” Tina sighed. “Look, I know you are anxious about them. We all are, the whole town is, really. We will do everything to find them, I promise. But you can’t exhaust yourself out of some contrived guilt. You will not save anyone if you waste yourself out.”

Finally, Lauren sighed.

“You are right. I should probably –“

“Go with me to the bar, yes!” Cheerfully finished Tina. “You owe me, after all.”

“Oh, do I now?”

“Yup! For my sage advice and for years and years of being a great friend and putting up with your antics.”

“Fair enough.” Lauren admitted, defeated, and turned off computer.

Twenty minutes later they were sitting in the corner booth in Tina’s favorite bar.

“A girls’ night out, at least.” Tina purred. “What you gonna drink?”

“Hmm, I imagine they do not serve chamomile tea?”

“Yeah, tea and some cute little canapes. Come on, Lauren!”

“A glass of red wine should be fine, I guess.” She sighed.

“Jeez, you and Verda are just… Why do I even try with you people…”

Tina went off to buy drinks, and Lauren took out her phone to send a quick message to Adam. He had made it an unbreakable rule for her to report to one of them about all of her movements outside the station, no exceptions, if she didn’t want them to follow her everywhere like a group of chaperones. Even so, she suspected, at least one of them was always near, but at least this way they respected her privacy and did it inconspicuously.

“By the way, about Verda,” Tina returned with the wine and some exotic looking cocktail with several layers of brightly colored liquors.

“What about him?” Lauren immediately tensed.

“Have you spoken with him recently?”

“Well…”

“He changed, haven’t you notice?”

“We’re all working flat out nowadays…” Lauren muttered.

“Yes, that’s what I thought, too, but that is not it. I think… Man, I don’t even know what to think, honestly, but I’m afraid for him. He’s looking like a man going through some serious crisis. I don’t know, what is it exactly. What if something is wrong with girls, or Eric… He would not divorce with Eric, right? Verda’d told us, if that was it, don’t you think?”

Lauren took a huge gulp of wine, feeling a cold sweat on her back. She forgot how perceptive and intuitive Tina really is. And also how much she means for her, Lauren.

“Tell you what,” she thoughtfully said. “I’ll talk to Verda. Like, one on one. I think, I might have an idea on how to help him with his… crisis, but it’s only my assumption,” Lauren added, seeing excited glow in Tina’s eyes.

“You do? That’s great! But you’ll tell me if there’s something serious, right?”

“I-I can’t talk about Verda’s life without his consent.” She helplessly mumbled, practically burning with shame.

“Fine, fine. But promise me you’ll pry it out of him. Use cuffs, if needed. And, speaking of cuffs, how’s it going with your gloomy agent?

Lauren outright choked on her wine.

“How’s it even connected?” She croaked, wiping up tears.

“Oh, don’t tell me he’s not into cuffs and ropes, I won’t buy it. What really interests me, though…” Tina narrowed her eyes and leaned over the table. “Who binds who?”

“Gods, Tina, what is in this cocktail, seriously?” Lauren feigned terror, reaching for her glass.

“Come on, humor me. It’s girls’ talk.’

Lauren sighed. She was not the type to discuss her personal affairs normally, but now she’d use any opportunity to lead the conversation away from Verda.

“No one binds anyone.” She finally confided. “And that is what I like about these relationships the most.”

“Like, free love?”

“More like, free partnership.” Lauren shrugged. “We are together, because… Hell, because we work pretty great together, but we respect boundaries of each other and do not push each other where the other one doesn’t want to be.”

“Huh.” Tina stirred her cocktail with the straw, mixing remaining layers.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m glad for you, really.” She quickly assured. “It’s just… Well, you never came off to me as somebody who’s into that kind of relationships.”

Lauren bit her lower lip, thinking. Frankly speaking, she never was in _any_ kind of relationships before. And never even had an urge to. She’d had couple of affairs back at college, but only because everyone else did, and she didn’t want to feel excluded. However, all of her intercourses were sadly unsatisfying, and Lauren soon had lost any interest in going out with anybody at all. Truth to be told, for years she held herself for somebody lacking any sexuality at all. But then Mason hit the stage.

“You know,” Lauren slowly said, “to think about it now, I think that kind of relationships is the only one I am really into.”

“Are you saying you’re falling for him?”

Lauren opened her mouth, but suddenly was interrupted.

“Detective Kingston!”

Bobby _fucking_ Marks. Lauren almost groaned aloud. Almost.

Shining with all his teeth, Bobby strolled to their booth. “Honestly, never took you for the bar type, Detective.”

“Yeah, well, turns out, I surprise people a lot lately.” Lauren sent him a wry smile.

“I bet.” Bobby’s answering one was outright carnivorous. He reached for an empty seat. “May I?”

“No!” In unison spat Tina and Lauren.

Bobby sat down and turned to Tina.

“Officer Poname, good to see you, too.”

Tina scoffed. Not taken aback in the least, Bobby continued to beam at them.

“So, having a nice night out after another day of guarding order in Wayhaven?”

“ _Were_ having a nice night.” Tina pointedly stated.

“By the way, Detective, about these kidnappings. When the police will make an official statement?”

Lauren got up from the table in time with Tina.

“You are a nasty weasel of a man.” The latter hissed.

“Hope they pay you enough for the sorrow of others.” Lauren said. “How do you sleep at night?”

“Like a baby, Detective.” Bobby smirked.

“You disgust me.” She answered honestly.

“Come on.” Tina pulled on her sleeve. “Do not waste your time.”

Lauren nodded, following her to the exit.

“That’s a shame, Detective.” Bobby called out. “I’ve been told I can surprise as well, if been given a chance.”

Once outside, Lauren took a breath of sweet night air.

“Urgh!” Tina was fuming. “Once in a lifetime I managed to drag you out, and our girls’ night is ruined by that dickhead!”

“I wouldn’t call it ruined.” Lauren objected. “It’s just Bobby being Bobby. Nothing extraordinary.”

“Um, Lauren? Isn’t that your gloomy knight?”

She turned around.

And yes. Mason it was, standing in a dozen meters away, leaning on a road fence post. Tina wiggled her brows.

“Guess, your ‘not ruined’ night is going to become even better.” She singsonged.

“Stop!” Lauren hissed, very aware of Mason being able to hear each word, no doubt.

“No need to see me off.” Tina giggled. “Have the time of your life.”

She bit her lip, suddenly concerned.

“You sure? That cocktail –“

“Oh, please.” Tina sniffed. “I am a big girl, and you are just a worrywart. You and Verda both. Oh, by the way – talk to him!” Tina remembered, already going down the street.

“I will.” Lauren sighed, watching after her.

When she already could not define her figure in the dark, Lauren turned around and made her way to Mason.

“Missed me much?” She smirked and crossed her hands trying to hide her embarrassment, because _how much did he heard_?

Mason shrugged.

“I was on patrol, Adam called and said you’re going to be here.”

“Oh.”

She sounded a bit disappointed by his explanation.

“So, I guess I should take you home, being your gloomy knight and everything, huh?” He said, taking off.

“You heard that. Of course you did.” Lauren shook her head.

“I heard a whole lot more.”

“What do you mean? Wait, how long have you been here, exactly?” She felt a shiver down her spine.

“Nate likes chamomile tea, too.”

“… _Fuck_.”

Lauren felt her face burning, which was a rare sight on her. Feeling pretty exposed, she hid her face in the palms. Mason chuckled, and his arm snaked around her shoulders.

“By the way, sweetheart,” his husky voice tickled her ear, “I think we work great together, too.”


	4. Five More Minutes (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first smut-oriented text, like, ever?  
> I really don't know how this happened. For the past month I tried to write three different chapters for this fic - so, basically three different stories, not connected too close with each other chronologically or by context. Three different stories with different characters - but they just didn't want to be written! And today I woke up with... this. It just happened. I couldn't do anything with it, so...
> 
> Warnings: explicit sex and mild language (obviously)
> 
> Pairings: Female Detective/Mason
> 
> Words: 2,7k

He doesn't remember how they ended up in her bedroom. Doesn't care, even. This is far from his first time here. He backs her to the bed without leaving her lips – plush and numb and raw from not so gentle kisses. Absentmindedly he thinks that sooner or later he will have to leave them alone if they want this to move any further. For this blissful moment, though, he is good where they are.

Lauren, however, makes the decision for him. When the back of her legs meet bedside, she swiftly grabs the hem of his shirt and tugs it off him. Mason begrudgingly draws back and lifts hands to help, but afterwards he gives her a disgruntled look. Lauren smiles, bashfully biting the corner of her lip. They are far beyond the line where he still could unnerve her with his stern looks and crude words. And they both know it. 

Still, Mason can't let her win this easy. He narrows his eyes, smiling though, and shoves her lightly, so that Lauren tumbles back on the bed. The look she sends his way from below – heated and coy, still biting her lip – gods, that look alone could make him come undone.

But again, she doesn't let him take his time. Cold fingers clasp around the edge of his jeans above the zipper – he flinches when her hand touches his lower abdomen – and roughly pull him closer. And he goes willingly – heavens know there's nothing he wouldn't give this woman when she looks at him like that – goes sprawling over her, and for some blissful moment there's nothing but entangled limbs, pants, heated kisses and hands skimming.

She somehow manages to moan his name around his tongue deep in her mouth when he frees the edge of silk shirt from the hem of her slacks, and his hands slip under it. He loves the way she shivers from his touches. Like she can come undone from it, too. Like she's also hypersensitive. And maybe she is – for him. The thought is awfully arrogant and terribly enticing. To think that her body is some kind of a rare exotic instrument he mastered. So that he's the only one who knows how to play on it. How to make it sing. And sing she does.

When his mouth trails her jaw, the velvety skin of her throat – feeling the small vibrations of it from her hoarse frenzied breaths – leaving open-mouthed wet kisses on her collarbone and shoulder, as far and deep as the neckline of her shirt allows. Then he literally shakes her out of it without taking the trouble to undo buttons. And immediately earns a sounding slap on the shoulder – she hates it when he tosses her clothes (with or without her in it) around in such an indignant manner. He knows it and doesn't give a fuck. She knows, too, but just can't not be tedious.

"What?" Mason barks when he sees her glare.

"Would it _kill_ you to unbutton it and waste another five seconds?"

"Sweetheart, be glad I don't want to waste another five seconds with you." He growls quietly in her ear. It earns him the reaction he needed. She starts, and he hears a breathy gasp. He feels the heat of her skin, gentle and radiant. Can practically see the steady glow. Because she's glowing for him. Only she sounds for him clear and meaningful in the world of the blank noises, loud and sharp, clawing into him. Only she exists. Her soothing presence.

In a matter of mere seconds her stupid shirt is far forgotten. By her, at least. He can tell it by the way her hot tongue laps his neck, or how she nibbles at his earlobe. And fuck if he doesn't want to let her have it her way. But he also can't just let her think she's right. All slapping and spanking should be consensual. 

That's why when her hands start to roam his chest and sides he catches her around the wrists and presses her hands into the pillow above her head. 

"Keep your hands there, will you?" He rasps, unbuttoning her slacks and pulling them down. 

"What, why?"

"Maybe I'm afraid you will slap me again."

"W-what? Mason, I'm sorry, I didn't…" She mumbles, but he interrupts her, rolling his eyes. 

"Oh, please, sweetheart. You are too gullible for your own good. Just keep them there for me, okay? If you move, I stop."

She blinks, and he revels in the slight fright in her eyes. Because she _has_ to be in control. And because she fucking _can't_ be on the receiving side. Every time when he tries and makes it about her, she practically panics. What kind of lovers she'd had before, he wonders? Who was that fucker who broke her so? 

"Mason..!" She trembles when he starts to pull her panties off. He freezes and looks at her, wondering how far she's ready to go with it. He tries to speak with his eyes only.

_You know I will never harm you? You know I will stop it any time you say? It's a game. It's all a game. I want you to feel good, not cornered and threatened._

For a long second two pairs of eyes – grey and hazel – look intensely at each other. Then one corner of her mouth twitches in a slightly shaky smile. She lifts her hands a little bit and drops them back as if showing him she won't move. Mason grins and lowers himself, getting more comfortable between her legs.

"Try to relax." He says and then, as an afterthought, he grabs one pillow and lifts her a little bit to ease her lower back. 

"Y-yeah, right." Lauren mutters. He hears the shake in her voice.

"Hey." He whispers, and she lifts her head to look at him. Mason holds her gaze and lowers his head to gently kiss her hip bone. Then again – not so gently, touching her skin with the tip of his tongue, drawing little ‘eights’ with it, basking in the way her eyes widen, on the pulsating heat of her core, so close to him. 

"I fucking hate you." She hisses, dropping back on the pillow and throwing one of her arms across her face.

He can't constrain a breathy laugh, and she squirms under him. Not ready to watch, then. That's okay. They'll be there one day, he vouches for it.

He hooks an elbow under her leg and trails her inner thigh with little kisses and nibs. Letting her adjust to the feeling of his mouth on the sensitive skin.

How come they're sleeping for almost half a year, and he never tasted her? Half a year. Huh. Something about it makes him frown. When was the last time he slept with anybody for half a year? Not in a kind of 'on and off' relationship when you both have other partners, but from time to time decide to have your fun together, but the kind of relationship when you actually sleep with one person for six months? _Was_ he ever in this kind of relationship at all? For a moment he is dumbstruck by the thought.

"Mason?" Lauren peeks at him from under her arm, sensitive for his unease as always. "Maybe we shou…"

"Don't be ridiculous." He grunts to both her and himself. 

"No, really, it's o…"

She fidgets, and he gives her a first firm stroke with his tongue to silence her. He’s not sure how efficient it is, because she stops talking but gives away some strained, gurgled sound instead. Something he's never heard yet. And it almost makes him laugh. But then all of his attention is centered at her core. At the heady and musk scent, at the warm and tart flavor of her juices. He circles her clit with his tongue, gently sucks and nibs on it, drawing more new sounds from her. Just when he thought he knew how to play on her – well, turns out he wasn't even close.

And to think about all the times they could've done it already. What a waste. Every time he tried to please her, she somehow managed to turn the tables and make it about _him_ instead, so that he soon forgot why it was not an option under her clever mouth and gentle hands. 

He basks in her reactions. Every small sound, every start and shiver he memorizes for future testings. The way she arches her back when he inserts a finger, the way she starts to move her hips in a sync with him when he adds another one.

"Mason…" Her voice, strained, weak. "Mason, I will not last if you…"

 _Then don't_ , he thinks. _Who tells you to? Why can't it be about you? I want you to feel good, I want you to stop worrying for a moment. To stop being so fucking tense – even now, coming undone under me_. 

He doesn't say it all, but he increases the pressure, moving faster, fingering her, stretching and licking, until she breaks apart completely with a quiet, almost ashamed whimper. Caging his head with her thighs, shivering and wriggling. He guides her through it. Moves in time with the waves of her orgasm, till she's silent and spent, catching her breath.

Lauren meets his eyes. He can't help but smile when he sees her amazed face. And the question written across it. Something along the lines of ' _are you real_ ' and ' _how can you be mine_ '. Something very similar with his own feelings.

"Mason…" She reaches for him, but then stops and looks at him intensely. He frowns, and she waves her hands over her head. "May I?"

Mason snorts and lifts himself with one arm, crawling higher above her. 

"Surprised you actually managed to stay like that…" But his cheeky remark is mashed by her hungry mouth. He tries not to squish her, but Lauren's hands insistently tug on him until he lays on her full body. Her hands are everywhere at once – his sides, his shoulders and back, in his hair and on his jaw. Then one of her hands snakes to the button of his jeans. He catches her wrist and looks her in the eyes. 

"We don't have to."

"I want to."

He watches her closely trying to find any sign of necessity, as if she’d felt obliged to return the favor, but finds none. Only the heat and want and…

He nods and lets go of her hand. Gentle fingers unzip his jeans and pull them down along with his underpants. He kisses the underline of her jaw, breathing her in. Pressing into her with his whole body, trying to become one. To crawl under her skin and stay that way forever. 

"Mason, condoms…" Her hand reaches to the bedside cabinet, but he swats it away. He knows well enough where they are. She giggles as he opens the drawer and clumsily searches inside. Clumsily because of her face nuzzling into his throat, murmuring all kinds of sweet nothings, pressing them into his skin with little kisses. 

"Sweetheart, are you trying to finish me off even before we started?" He growls, sitting back. "Because you are doing a damn well job."

She giggles again, and he has to catch himself on the mattress to unwrap the condom. It'd be easier if not for his jeans still tethering around his knees, but to take them off altogether means to waste another five seconds. And he right now is at the point where another five seconds apart from her may become crucial.

Finally, he jerks her closer by the thighs, reveling in her surprised gasp, and the way her legs frame him in the next second, pulling him closer, ready for him as ever.

She moans for real when he thrusts into her. He sets the pace from the start, too greedy, too wound-up to prolong it. She's squirming, still too sensitive from the first orgasm, trying to adjust to his pace. He knows he won't last long. But he also knows she would need some extra stimulation to come again so soon after the first time. That's why through the haze of his arousal he makes himself to adjust their position just right and reaches between them. Lauren sobs when his fingers touch her sensitive bud, pressing into him both to restrain his movements with her body and to increase the pressure. 

"That's right." He whispers, closing his eyes. Adjusting with her, feeling her, becoming one. "Come on, sweetheart."

"Mason, I can't…" Her weak whisper, even though she's moving with him, meeting his thrusts. 

"Don't be ridiculous, of course you can. Come on, you were so good thus far… Such a brave girl…"

He keeps mumbling something about how good she makes him feel, because heavens know it's true. Not only now, not only in bed, but how good it is for him when she's around. Just being with her. Touching her, seeing her smile, her laugh, letting himself to lower his walls and just… be. Just feel the world around without a constant shattering of his senses. Doesn't she know how much she does for him every day? With the sole fact of her existence? Such a good girl, indeed.

He doesn't register which part of it he lets slip. All of it? He whispers and whispers while he still can and he's fucking sure he says plenty of shit he wouldn't repeat even under torture. But it doesn't matter. Because this is Lauren. She'll never use it against him. It doesn't count anywhere outside the bed. Or does it? Doesn't matter. 

"Mason, I…"

"Come for me." He doesn't let her finish her thought. Because it doesn't matter. Because he doesn't want her to regret whatever she wanted to say, to feel ashamed and vulnerable afterwards. And because, oh, he knows. Everything there is. He _so_ knows. "Come on, precious, just let it go."

And she does. Sending them both over the edge, drowning him in their doubled bliss. Making him blissfully shallow, freed of all and every feeling.

Felix once asked him how come that he, being so sensitive, can love sex so much. And that is what he couldn't explain to him then. This is what a good fuck do – it sets you free. Makes you numb for a couple of moments. Or just makes the whole world to finally shut up. So yeah, worth it. With Lauren, though… 

It is not about the numbness. Not only. She makes the world stop assaulting him even when they are not entangled in sheets and each other. She just… appears. And everything suddenly becomes right. The world around him, moments ago screeching and roaring, aligns with her at once. All the gears line up, and the roar becomes a quiet humming, leaving him astonished by the sight of his inner demons, practically purring at her lap. Damn, he himself is practically purring at her lap at every given opportunity.

Begrudgingly, he untangles from her embrace to toss the condom. When he leaves the bathroom he practically collides with Lauren, wrapped in a bed sheet. It always amuses him how bashful she is after sex, trying to cover herself up.

"Leaving so soon?" He murmurs, trapping her against him and corralling her back to the bedroom. 

"Mason! I'm a mess…" She mutters, trying to break free. 

"Your point?"

"Seriously? I need a shower. And you too, by the way. You're icky."

"Tempting offer."

"That's not what…"

"...you meant?"

"No. I mean, yes. Or… ? You lost me!" She accuses when he unceremoniously drops her on the bed. "Mason, seriously, we are sweaty and disgusting."

"Five more minutes, and we'll have your shower."

"Separately."

"Maybe."

"Mason!"

He looks at her and with a deadpan expression says:

"I'm this close to gagging you with your stupid shirt. I'll even unbutton it for you this time."

For a couple of seconds they glare at each other. Finally, Lauren sighs and tugs him closer. 

"Fine, five more minutes."

"Should I count aloud for you?"

"Okay, okay, I got it, I'm a fucking control freak, I'll shut up."

Mason closes his eyes and presses his cheek into her breasts. Lauren _is_ a control freak all right. Nothing new here. The thought that bothered him slightly, though, was – _since when, for the fuck's sake, did he become the one for the aftersex snuggling?_

 _Who cares_ , inner demons retorted, purring.

Fair enough for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said, I do not write smut usually. I am sure that sex-oriented fanfics are ones of the hardest to write (well, should be, at least)! It is awfully difficult to describe existing characters so that they don't turn out completely OOC and to not turn the story into complete and vulgar pabulum.  
> I tried to make it light and funny, and tender. And save at least some part of canonical Mason in it. Hope I did.


End file.
